


Canvas

by KuroiAgeha



Category: Free!
Genre: Five Years Later, Gorgeous Haru, Jealous Makoto, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1378060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroiAgeha/pseuds/KuroiAgeha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things were strained between Makoto and Haruka when they separated to go to University. A lot has changed in the five years they've been apart and when they meet again it stirs up feelings in Makoto he'd spent five years trying to deny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Graduating from Iwatobi

**Author's Note:**

> I realize that I have another fic that I haven't finished yet and it's been untouched for a while, but when I have inspiration for a new fic I find it hard to keep writing another. I'm sure i'll finish the other one soon too though. 
> 
> Again, i'm not claiming to be any good at this, so please go easy. =] 
> 
> And Free! doesn't belong to me, obviously.

The end of High School came far too quickly for the eldest members of Iwatobi High School Swim Club. Before they knew it, Haruka and Makoto were being bombarded with information about different Universities and Colleges, each one more confusing than the last. Rei and Nagisa could only watch in a wistful kind of pity as their friends (mainly Makoto) pored over university prospectuses and college open day invitations more and more frequently during their rooftop lunches. 

It seemed as though, surprisingly, both Makoto and Haruka knew what it was they wanted to do. Makoto, ever the nurturing, big-brother type, wanted to go into teaching, opting for schools that specialized in teaching elementary level curricula. It came as no surprised to everyone that Makoto knew what he wanted to do; what surprised everyone was how proactive Haru was about what he wanted to do. Haru became engrossed in prospectuses from different art schools, wanting to go into something along the lines of Fine Art or Oil Painting. The most surprising thing about the situation, however, was how far apart their final first choice colleges were from the others, and how accepting they were of that fact.

‘But Haru-chan!’ Nagisa cooed one lunchtime when the older two had announced their plans for after graduation. ‘What will you do without Mako-chan to get you out of the bath?’

This earned him a scowl from Haru, and a modest, amiable chuckle from Makoto. 

‘I’ll be fine.’ Haru’s curt answer, although not out of character, didn’t settle very well with the group. However, Haru had thought that, considering how his and Makoto’s relationship had been lately, it was not that unexpected. 

Things had definitely become strained between the two lately, and Haru had absolutely no idea why it had happened. He surmised that he must have done something to upset Makoto, since the bigger boy would never say if Haru had pissed him off and Makoto was definitely keeping something to himself. He’d stopped coming over as often, up to the point where he’d only visit every other weekend. His attitude, although always carefully hidden behind that soft smile and puppy-dog eyes, had a very subtle edge to it lately, almost as though he were trying to keep some distance between himself and Haru. Of course, the smaller boy had inquired several times, in his own way and once in a way very unlike himself and with lots more words than he was used to, what the problem was, but Makoto insisted that nothing was wrong. 

It had been heading this way for a good few months now, so when it came time for them to hand in their career intention forms to their homeroom teacher, Haru found himself sadly thinking that this was probably for the best. He didn’t want Makoto to end up hating him, so it was probably best that they spend some time apart. Of course, it was never as easy as that to lose Makoto as a friend; it made his heart constrict in a way he was very unfamiliar with, but he hoped that some distance would fix whatever this uneasiness was between them. 

Haru did not know the real reason behind Makoto’s sudden behavior change, and Makoto was quite happy for it to stay that way.

He knew his behavior towards Haru had turned into something uncomfortable and unfamiliar, but thinking about the alternative made Makoto’s chest tighten painfully. Whether it was for his own self-preservation or Haru’s, he didn’t know, but he knew that if he carried on with the feelings that were starting to spread in him until graduation, having to part from Haru would kill him. 

Makoto had fallen in love with Haru. At first it was a happy, blossoming love that he was quite content to keep to himself and consider how lucky he was that he was the person that Haru was closest to, but after a few months it had turned into something a little more adult, scary. He found himself staring far too often at Haru during practice, wanting to do things to his best friends that were completely out of his character. Where as before, he could happily daydream about holding Haru in his arms, holding hands as if it were natural or talking about useless, unimportant things while flirting, his head was now filled with thoughts of dirty, carnal things and fantasies about Haru underneath his swimsuit. Makoto had never been the aggressive type, but once or twice he found himself just wanting to push Haru down and force his feelings onto him. These kind of thoughts really scared Makoto, which is why he took the decision to distance himself from Haru. He figured that if he did it bit by bit, it would make it easier for the both of them; his own hormonal thoughts wouldn’t get him in trouble and Haru wouldn’t find their separation as hard. 

Of course their friends noticed the change between the two. Lunchtimes were a lot quieter and more tense than they’d been before. There were obviously club matters that needed sorting out, and although their attentions were focused on Rei and Nagisa becoming the new Captain and Vice-Captains of the club, there was still that elephant in the room that nobody wanted to touch upon. 

The months passed very quickly; before they even had a chance to process their exams and graduation Haruka and Makoto were packing their things and preparing to leave for their prospective schools. Haru had been accepted into Tokyo University of the Arts, studying traditional Japanese painting while Makoto was going to a University in Kyoto, to study Maths, Science and Language. They’d both already said goodbyes to their friends, Nagisa having organized a massive goodbye party for the two of them then spending the whole night drenching Rei in sloppy, melodramatic tears. Even Rin had gotten a little emotional behind the swearing and punching. Haru was definitely sad to leave them all, yet he felt a certain numbness to the whole situation that surprised even him. Makoto was clearly a little upset to leave everyone too; it just bothered Haru that Makoto couldn’t show that same kind of emotion towards him. He supposed that he probably could have made it clearer how he felt about leaving Makoto too, but instead of acting upon these feelings, he retreated into himself as he’d done a few years before, hoping that someone else would speak for him; hoping that Makoto would speak for him.

Haru was the first to leave. He left on a friday, and called round to Makotos house before he left. First he said his goodbyes to the Tachibana family, giving Ren and Ran a rare hug and a smile each, before calling Makoto outside to say goodbye in private. It was definitely awkward; there were so many things that Haru wanted to say to him, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to voice any thoughts or feelings at all. 

“… Will you let me know when you’re settled in and everything?” It seemed like an empty sentiment, something Makoto only really said to fill the silence. Even though Haru knew what it was, he nodded.

“Ah, good.” A pause, tense and filled with bated breath. “Haru, I… I am going to miss you, you know.”

Haru brought his eyes up from his shoes to look Makoto in the eyes, torn between wanting to hope for some semblance of recognition for the friendship they had and not wanting to get his hopes up. He wasn’t so stupid as to think that Makoto wouldn’t miss him at all, they had been best friends since before they could remember and had always been together. 

“Un…” he replied, uncertainly, not disbelieving, just cautious. Makoto didn’t miss the uncertainty. 

“Honest, Haru. I… I know things haven’t been normal for a while now… but…” 

’So he acknowledges that there was something wrong, at least.’ Haru thought bitterly. He tore his gaze away from Makoto to fall back at his feet, not liking this uncomfortable line of conversation. He didn’t really know what he expected Makoto to say. 

‘You’ll always be my best friend’? 

‘It’ll be weird not seeing you every day’? 

‘I don’t want to be apart from you’?

‘Whoa,’ Haru backtracked his train of thought. ‘Where did that last one come from?’

However, before he had a chance to dwell on the fact that he’d inwardly expressed to himself that he’d wanted Makoto to say that to him, the boy in question responded with a less-than desired sentiment.

“Well… good luck then, Haru.” 

He couldn’t catch the surprised, confused expression on his face as he stared at Makoto, eyes widened with a dull kind of shock. Was that really all Makoto had to say to him? They wouldn’t see each other for months, maybe even a year. Maybe three or four. He didn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t this kind of indifference. 

It had caught him off-guard, so much so that he couldn’t really think of a way to react and left Makoto with a distracted ‘Goodbye’, turning to make his way up the grey stone steps with a confused kind of despondency. It wasn’t until he’d reached his front door, key in hand and pausing just before the lock, that he allowed himself to breath out a frustrated, angry sigh. He was unaware, however, of the bigger brown-haired boy back at the Tachibana’s, closing his bedroom door and slumping defeatedly down it, grabbing his face in his hands. It wasn’t the way either of them had wanted to say goodbye.


	2. Five Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto returns after five years of living in Kyoto to find that a few things have changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally planned to only post up a chapter when I'd written a whole chapter ahead. I haven't done that, so I should get on it.

**5 Years Later**

 

He stepped briskly through the front door of his family’s home, only to be forcefully embraced by two very excitable twins, one now starting to outgrow the other. Returning their hugs with an arm each, he chuckled, flashing his mother and father a grin, happy to be home. Makoto couldn’t believe how much his siblings had grown in the year he’d stayed away from home. He’d visited home much more during his earlier university years, but his teacher training had gotten only more intense towards the end of the course which left little to no time off. Any holiday or breaks he did get, he’d stayed in Kyoto, working summer jobs or studying, which meant in all the 5 years he’d been away from Iwatobi, he’d only returned a couple of times a year, if that. 

 

However, Makoto was now a fully qualified teacher. He’d finished his degree with a good grade and was ready to start a new career in a school. Coincidentally, his mother had heard through Ren and Ran that a position was coming up at Iwatobi High School. Excited at the prospect of working at his former school, Makoto, who had no ties in Kyoto, took the decision to move back to Iwatobi, figuring that even if he didn’t get the job at Iwatobi High School, he could stay with his parents while he figured out his next move. 

 

It was a relief to be back, if he was honest with himself. He’d had a great time at uni and had made many new friends in Kyoto, but nothing could compare to the familiarity and warmth of being back home with his family in Iwatobi. Although he hadn’t been back very often, he’d always managed to run into someone he knew while he was there. Last time, over a year ago, he’d bumped into Nagisa as he took a leisurely walk down the beach. Nagisa had chosen to go to a local university studying History, while working part-time at a bar in the middle of town. He was as excitable as ever and hadn’t grown much taller than before. As they sat on the beach catching up, he’d chattered aimlessly away about how the others were doing; how Rei phoned him all the time from his university, boring him stupid with mathematical facts and calculations and getting annoyed when Nagisa started snoring on the end of the line; how Rin stayed in Iwatobi when he wasn’t off training or competing in tournaments; how Gou-chan had gotten herself a boyfriend who looked a lot like Captain Mikoshiba. The only person he didn’t volunteer information about was Haru. 

 

When Makoto tried to casually ask about him, Nagisa’s expression fell. He explained that no one had heard from Haru-chan in a long while, but the last he’d heard, he wasn’t getting along well with anyone. Apparently, whenever Nagisa, Rei or Rin had tried phoning him or e-mailing, Haru had been short, snippy and even less talkative than he used to be. A stab of guilt went right through Makoto when Nagisa asked how Haru was with him, and he had to reply that he hadn’t contacted Haru in a long while.

 

He thought that by creating some distance between the two of them, Makoto could give himself enough time and space to get over his feelings for Haru. However, as time went by, he found it harder and harder to strike a balance between keeping contact going with Haru, and trying to forget his feelings. In the end, he’d given up, and although he hadn’t really expected it, Haru hadn’t made much of an effort to talk either. Their conversations had gotten shorter and shorter, and less and less until it fizzled out completely. Makoto still thought about Haru everyday, but he knew that if he couldn’t act upon his feelings for Haru, then it was no use putting both him and Haru through that awkwardness again.

 

“So, are you going to go see Haruka?” 

 

Makoto’s mother’s voice broke through his musings, coincidentally cutting straight to the point. The Tachibana family were sitting down to dinner, something Makoto had missed dearly while he was away. 

 

“Haru?” Makoto sent his mother a confused look. “What about Haru?”

 

His mother’s face mirrored his confusion. “You know… since you’re home, aren’t you going to go see him?”

 

Surprised, Makoto paused in his actions, chopsticks perched mid way. “He’s home?”

 

It felt as though they were having two separate conversations here. His mother probably just assumed that he knew all about what was going on with Haru, and honestly, he felt like it was probably expected of him to know. 

 

“Well… yes,” she replied, using her own chopsticks to dip a piece of food into her soy sauce. “Didn’t he tell you he was home? He’s been working from home for about a year now.”

 

“Working from home? You mean, painting?”

 

“Of course! Honestly, Makoto… are you telling me you haven’t spoken to him in a year?”

 

‘ _It’s been a lot longer than that.’_ He thought privately, wondering what his parents would say if they knew. A fresh pang of guilt washed over him as he finished his meal, joining his hands and muttering his thanks.

 

“I can’t believe you two haven’t seen each other in over a year! You’ve both changed so much. Especially Haruka, I mean, I hardly see him nowadays! I think you should go over there and say hello. You can go now if you like.” 

 

“Maybe not tonight, I just got back,” Makoto grabbed his plate and started to rise awkwardly from the table, feeling a little like he was being scolded by his mother. “And besides, there’s all these dishes that need doing.”

 

“Nonsense! I’ll do those, you go and visit Haruka.” Her tone seemed to leave no room for argument. Reluctantly, Makoto set down his plate, sent his mother a sheepish grin and left the table to get ready to leave. He knew she was only trying to help, but Makoto wasn’t sure whether he was ready to face Haru yet. He considered just putting his shoes on, leaving the house and walking around for a while, or telling his mother that Haru wasn’t home, but when she placed a plate of food in his hands, her face smiling yet stern, he knew he’d have to go.

 

The walk up the few stone steps to Haru’s house had seemingly never taken as much time and energy as it took Makoto that evening. The sun was low in the sky as he paused before Haru’s house, watching the stray cats he used to know as kittens wind themselves around the front fence. His nerves were beginning to get to him; his mouth started to go dry as he tried to imagine what he would say to Haru, after all these years. How about how he’d never really gotten over him? How all his attempts at creating space and putting them both through this separation had been to try to protect Haru from Makoto’s feelings, yet it hadn’t worked? How even though Makoto had tried going out with girls while in Kyoto, none of them were Haru? Steeling himself, he shifted the plate into one hand and used the other to knock the door.

 

After a moment, it opened slowly and Makoto was faced with someone who was not Haru. The man was tall, about Makoto’s height, and had smart, darker brown hair. He was wearing suit trousers, a crisp white shirt with the cuffs pushed up to his elbows and a long black tie. His eyes were hard and demanding, as he looked over Makoto with a subtle air of suspicion before barking out “Yes?”

 

“Um, hello,” Makoto didn’t know how old this man was, but he guessed he was roughly the same age. It bothered Makoto that someone who appeared to be similar in age could be so intimidating. “My name is Makoto, i’m a friend of Haru’s. I just came by to say hi, since I haven’t seen him in a while.”

 

The man’s lips pursed together for a second, as if in thought before he stepped aside and allowed Makoto to enter Haru’s house. His demeanor was that of someone who knew Haru and this house well and it began to irritate Makoto. Making his way inside the doorway, he barely had time to step inside before the man roughly closed the door and started to make his way through to the living room.

 

“Haru!” he called huffily. “You have a visitor.”

 

“I’m busy.” Makoto’s heart leapt slightly as Haru’s familiar, albeit faint sounding voice drifted through the house. Feeling as though he needed to prove to this man that he belonged here, Makoto shook off his shoes and made his way past the man into the living room. Sitting out on the deck, an easel propped up in front of him and surrounded by oil paints and jars of water was Haru, and Makoto couldn’t help but stop and stare. It seemed as though the years had completely changed him. 

 

Haru was _gorgeous._

 

Before Haru turned to face him, Makoto noticed the silky length of blue-black hair that was unfamiliar; it now fell to just about Haru’s shoulders and shone in a way Makoto was sure it never did before. He didn’t know whether it was his imagination, or because he hadn’t seen his friend in so long, but Haru looked thinner, more delicate. His wrists, exposed as he reached up to brush a spot on the canvas with green paint, looked thinner, paler, more feminine. Disturbed by the noise of Makoto’s entrance, he finished the spot he was carefully painting and turned slowly to look at Makoto, his eyes the only thing about Haru that hadn’t changed. They widened upon recognition, and his lips, fuller, prettier, fell open in surprise. 

 

“Makoto.”

 

The feelings that Makoto had been trying so hard to suppress for the last five years, suddenly came back in full force when he heard Haru’s voice. Miraculously keeping his composure, he managed to supply one of his familiar smiles. 

 

“Hi, Haru-chan. Long time no see!”

 

He was pleased to notice the subtle creasing of Haru’s brow at the nickname. Haru barely hid his frown and turned away, back to his painting, lifting the brush up once more. 

 

“Don’t call me chan.” His voice was smaller, muted as though he wasn’t used to talking much. He continued painting as Makoto moved closer to sit next to him on the veranda, butterflies filling his stomach. The atmosphere was slightly awkward, as though neither really knew what to say, but Makoto’s earlier feelings of reluctance to see Haru had disappeared. Now that he’d seen Haru, seen how much he’d changed, he knew that it was no use trying to deny his feelings. He was still head over heels. 

 

 

Haru, on the other hand, was torn. Or rather, he felt as though he should be, but for the past few years, Haru found it very hard to feel much about anything in particular. 

 

University hadn’t been fun for Haru. He’d started off still feeling angry and upset about how he and Makoto had parted, which had developed into a deep-seated mistrust of anyone who tried to get close to him. While Makoto had seemingly outgrown him and was having fun making new friends in Kyoto, Haru was becoming increasingly bitter and jaded until his fellow students eventually learned that he was just not interested in getting to know them. He’d always been socially awkward, yet before it was a case of the feelings being present in him but being unable to express it, where as now he just outright did not care. He didn’t want to get attached to anyone, since he reasoned that if his parents could leave him alone, and if Makoto could leave him alone, and it had hurt that much, then why would he want to risk that happening again? 

 

His degree had only lasted three years and during that time, Haru had worked hard and shown remarkable artistic talent. He’d attracted the attention of several arts companies and agencies, and upon leaving university he’d already had plenty of offers to choose from. Eventually, he chose to go with an agent, which meant he could work from home and since home could be anywhere, he decided to move back into his family home in Iwatobi. 

 

He hadn’t expected Makoto to ever come back though. He figured that his friend would find a girlfriend or a job in Kyoto and stay there. If he was honest with himself, he was still a little angry and bitter about how they’d parted. Now that Makoto was here though, and sitting in his house just like before, he was torn between wanting to show Makoto that he couldn’t just come barging back into Haru’s life and wanting things to go back to how they used to be. How HE used to be, since Haru knew he’d changed a lot in the last five years. 

 

Their conversation was cordial; the obvious questions being asked; how was your degree, what have you been doing with yourself, etc, etc. Haru brought Makoto up to speed as to how he came to live in Iwatobi again, but only telling him the bare minimum. Makoto also filled Haru in with what he’d been doing, without going into how much his feelings for Haru had affected him. However, Makoto couldn’t help but feel a coldness coming from Haru. It was similar to how he used to be, before forming the swim team in high school, when Haru was depressed and closed off. 

 

They chatted for a while, before the man who had let Makoto in entered the room once more, making his way over to Haru and picking up the empty teacup that sat next to Haru’s easel. He threw Makoto a look, which Haru didn’t seem to notice. 

 

“Can I get you anything, Haru?” the man asked, his voice suddenly softening when directed at Haru. “More tea? Food? You need to eat.”

 

“No thank you, Souda.” Haru turned to face the man, apparently called Souda, who rested a hand gently on his shoulder. Irritation flared inside Makoto at Souda’s over familiarity with Haru, but the other male didn’t seem to mind it. 

 

“Okay. I just had a call from Kidokawa, they were asking how much longer you’d need to finish the painting?” 

 

“Probably a couple of days. Is it urgent?”

 

“They can wait,” Souda smiled warmly, his fingers moving ever so slightly on Haru’s shoulder. Makoto could feel himself beginning to glare and managed to stop himself before anyone noticed. It was like this man was trying to wind him up, even though they’d only just met. And why was Haru allowing this contact? He never used to like anyone touching him but Makoto. “Sure you don’t want anything?”

 

“I’m really fine. I promise.” 

 

The whole exchange made Makoto very uncomfortable. He sensed that there was something he was missing here, something between the two of them that made Makoto burn a little with jealousy. Haru turned back to his painting as Souda walked into the kitchen, oblivious to Makoto’s discomfort. 

 

“So… um… Souda,” he tried to figure out a way to approach it without sounding jealous. “So he’s your…?”

 

“He’s my agent.” Haru replied, his eyes not leaving his painting. 

 

“Ah, I see!” He hoped Haru didn’t pick up on the relief in his voice. Suddenly, Souda didn’t seem so intimidating anymore, or rather, it was easier to pretend that Souda didn’t bother him. “He seems like a very good agent, bringing you tea and food! It’s good of him.”

 

“Well, he is good to me,” Haru spoke softly, continuing on with his painting with a look of concentration marking his features. “We went out before, so it’s natural he’d be nice to me.”

 

“What?!” 

 

The bottom seemed to fall out of Makoto’s stomach. _‘We went out before…’_

 

Haru said that so casually, like it was no big deal. He uttered it as though he was talking about the weather. It was almost as if he hadn’t just confessed to Makoto that he had gone out with a _man._

 

So it was that easy. Makoto had spent the last five years agonizing over his feelings for Haru, worrying that his friend would feel uncomfortable about another guy seeing him in that way, thinking that there was absolutely no way that Haru could possibly come to like him in that way because he was straight. Yet Haru had just simply told Makoto, like it was so unimportant and mundane that it wasn’t even worth making a big deal out of. 

 

Haru finally turned to face him, his face unreadable and impassive. Makoto couldn’t help but gape as Haru elaborated. 

 

“We used to date. Well… I say date, we never actually went on one, it was just physical really. I didn’t want to be with anyone particularly, so we split. If you can call it going out.”

 

“So… so you’re-?”

 

Haru stared at Makoto as though he was explaining something very simple and Makoto just wasn’t getting it. 

 

“Yes, Makoto. I’m _gay.”_

 


End file.
